


How I Saved Her

by AnnieTheLionheart



Series: Stubborn Love [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Highschool, F/M, Humour, Mild Language, Past life, Reincarnation, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieTheLionheart/pseuds/AnnieTheLionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Connie Springer entangles himself in a deep fascination with Sasha Braus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Click here for Sasha's POV   
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1141675

I have no idea where to start with this story. I suppose I should start at the _beginning_ , as the clue is in the word really – where it _begins_. But then again, what exactly is the beginning? Perhaps I’ll just start from what _she_ calls the beginning.

 

So, this is the story of how I, Connie Springer, became infatuated by none other than Sasha Braus.

   
  
 

* * *

 

 

To be honest, our beginnings weren’t so unorthodox at all. There was nothing special about our first meeting. It wasn’t _“love at first sight,”_ and I really don’t think she even knew who I was.

           

September 2nd was when school began that year. The morning was frigid and chilly, unwelcoming to the students arriving to the hellhole that morning. It was an awful place to be for anyone, and I felt an aching sympathy for the new first years, unsuspecting of the maze of corridors and eccentric teachers and dismal cafeteria food.

 

I was not looking forward to my first day of Year 11. Not at all. For me, school was a place where self-esteem and good grades went to die. So maybe I wasn’t the dumbest of the dumb, but I wasn’t exactly bright, either. Most of my friends were much smarter, and outshone me in every subject. And don’t think that just because I was stupid I excelled in sport, because I didn’t. I was short and not very muscular, and athletic activities were not particularly my thing.

I got by, though. I managed to hold my own in the stream of average students.

 

So there I was, blowing puffs of smoke into the freezing autumn air, when a familiar voice caught my attention.

‘Sure you don’t want a hat for that head, baldy?’

I turned to scowl at the owner of the voice. It was none other than the infamous Ymir – tall, tanned and pretty hot, with shoulder-length, silky brown hair and a wry smirk sliding acidly across her features. Now, you may be thinking, “Oh, Connie has a crush on the hot cool girl.” But there was a catch. She was a lesbian.

To prove my point, her arm was protectively clutching at the shoulders of a tiny blonde girl. Christa Renz was the definition of petite; she was more than 10cm shorter than myself, and that was really saying something. Her big blue eyes twinkled when she smiled at me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

 

‘No, seriously,’ Ymir raised her eyebrows at me, patting me on my shaved head, ‘Get a hat. I’ll buy you one for Christmas, if you want.’

I swatted her hand away, ‘Get off.’

 

Interrupting our playful slaps, the school bell rang out to signify the start of lessons. I let out a long, low groan in ill disguised disappointment that we actually had to enter the school. Ymir looked amused at the sound, ‘Come on, guys. Time to go get our timetables.’

 

Our brief registration period was held in the science block. Fortunately for our group, we had been pinned with Miss Zoe, the quirky head of the science department. “Call me Hanji, please,” was something she told us at the start of every year. She said she preferred to be treat as a friend than a teacher, whatever that means.

Her classes were never boring, and that was a guarantee. Most of the first years found her terrifying, due to her idiosyncratic tendencies that involved setting the classroom on fire with nearly every experiment. During tutor time, she would usually ignore our class and immediately start tinkering with all sorts of chemicals.

 

This year, as we stepped into the familiar room that possessed a tainted aroma of sulphur and gas, Miss Zoe was already scrawling haphazardly across the whiteboard. Equations were dotted everywhere, seemingly unrelated but clearly maintaining an invisible link between the rainbow of Greek lettering and mathematical sums.

 

Behind her, perched on the edge of a battered classroom stool, was a young man who looked as though he had just left secondary school. He had a square jaw and brown eyes, with tan-coloured, straight hair flopping over his forehead. He watched Miss Zoe scribble as though her life depended on it, eyes narrowed in perplexed intrigue.

 

I climbed onto a stool at the back of the room, tossing my backpack carelessly under the table.

Ymir and Christa went to sit at the row in front of me.

 

There was no time to feel alone, as instantaneously a few of my other friends filed into the room.  A thin, tan-haired boy with a brunette undercut dumped himself on the seat beside me. His name was Jean Kirschtein, and he was one of my best friends. He waggled his dark eyebrows at me, ‘Yooooo.’ He greeted.

I gave him a nod in reply, beginning to rock back on the legs of my stool.

 

‘This is it. This is the year, Connie.’

‘What?’ I asked, turning to him in confusion as his amber eyes flashed in excitement.

‘This is the year I’m gonna ask Mikasa out.’

I groaned out loud, ‘You say that _every_ year.’

 

Mikasa Ackerman was the smartest girl in the class, and also kicked ass at sports. I had seen her in a few fights too, protecting her reckless best friends, usually. I would not like to piss her off.

Jean had developed a crush on Mikasa during the first year of school, and had been infatuated with her ever since. Nothing had ever changed, though. He never had the guts to actually say anything to her. And when he did he often finished up blushing like a little schoolgirl.

Honestly, Mikasa was pretty and all but it wasn’t _that_ hard to talk to her. I had never had a problem with talking to girls.

Until that morning.

 

‘Oh please, horseface, Mikasa would never go for you,’ another voice joined.

‘Shut up, Jaeger,’ Jean spat, turning to the boy behind us. Eren Jaeger was Mikasa’s aforementioned reckless best friend. He ran a hand through his thick mess of dark hair, grinning wryly at Jean, ‘Just warning you.’

 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them: first period of the first day of school and they were _already_ arguing. It usually took a little longer than that. While I laughed, I rocked back and forth on my stool absent-mindedly. It was an old habit of mine to do so.

 

That’s why I didn’t expect that somebody would crash into me.

 

‘Sorry!’ The other person exclaimed apologetically, spreading her fingers wide as she held up her hands to show just how sorry she was.

Initially caught off guard, I did not look at her. I was simply focused on gripping the edge of the table tightly so that my stool did not topple over entirely.

When I steadied myself, I sighed in relief, ‘Close one,’ I whispered.

 

My first thought was that I didn’t recognise the girl stood beside me. She was tall (but then again everybody was by my standards) with olive skin and glittering hazel eyes. Her brunette fringe shone as the light struck it perfectly, highlighting maroon undertones. The rest of her hair had been pulled sharply up into a ponytail on the crown of her head, swinging down to meet the soft curve at the nape of her neck.

She was not hot in the way that Ymir was, nor was she stunningly beautiful like Mikasa. But I would definitely describe her as cute, and something about the new girl caught my attention.

 

‘Sorry,’ she muttered again. _Idiot, idiot, idiot_. I realised that I had not spoken for a good few seconds, as instead I had been gazing at her face. Thankfully, I did not embarrass easily, and no flush rose in my cheeks.

‘No, it’s my fault.’ I replied calmly, scooting my chair in to allow her to pass.

 

She scurried away, brown ponytail swinging behind her. My eyes tracked her movements. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Why? You thinking of dating her _already_?’ Ymir mocked, amused by my starry eyes.

I scowled at her.

‘That’s the new girl.’ Christa kindly answered my question.

‘What’s her name?’ My question was met by a round of shrugs.

 

Two moments later, Miss Zoe spun around unexpectedly from the whiteboard. ‘Good morning, class. Great to see you all back.’ Already she was a ball of delightful energy, grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet as she spoke.

She waved a hand dramatically toward the young man seated behind her, whom I had noticed watching her as she wrote her equations, ‘I have a new teaching assistant joining me this year. His name is Moblit Berner. Call him Moblit, just as you should all call me Hanji.’ And there it was, her famous line.

Then she pointed at the pretty brown-haired girl, ‘Also, a new student will be joining us. Her name is Sasha Braus.’

 

 _Sasha. Sasha_. I repeated her name over and over in my head, marvelling at how the vowels and consonants fit together and flowed so perfectly.

 

So entangled in my curiosity with the new girl, I had not noticed that I was rocking back on my chair again. _Uh-oh_ , I thought as I felt all the legs but one lift off the ground at once. The stool rocked precariously for a split second before tumbling to the floor.

My cheek scraped against the rough, wiry fabric of the classroom carpet as I crashed to the ground. My limbs were entwined around the metal legs and the plastic seat was on top of me somehow.

 

Around me I heard the explosion of laughter. Owning the reputation of class clown, I was very much at peace with the entire class laughing at my antics. And so, after a sigh of dismay I leapt to my feet again, throwing an arm triumphantly in the air, ‘I’m alive!’

 

My friends were laughing least of all, instead resorting to rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. They had all been around me way too long, and were all way too familiar with my clumsy, idiotic exploits.

However, Miss Zoe and the rest of the class were in hysterics. My own registration tutor didn’t even think to ask if I was okay. Her assistant, Moblit, seemed much more concerned as he furrowed his brow in my direction.

 

But most pleasing of all, out of the corner of my eye, I think I saw Sasha giggling slightly. It was honestly adorable.

   
  
* * *

 

 

The next couple of weeks went by without any tremendous issues. Of course, my teachers all came to quickly dislike me due to a stunning lack of homework and whatever, but being me, I didn’t care.

 

Food technology became both my best and my worst lesson very quickly. It was the worst because I had been stuck with the strictest, cruellest, clean-freak of a teacher, Mr Rivaille. I think he was of French descent, or something. For some stupid reason a lot of the girls in school had a crush on him, which I struggled to understand. In my head he was just another asshole teacher who yelled at me for not doing my homework or not cleaning the dishes properly after cooking.

 

However, my two-hour long lessons were brightened by Sasha. She had been enrolled in my Food Tech class, and let me say she was _great_ at it. I found myself admiring her work from a distance, watching carefully as she decorated the cakes and tarts, or whatever else she was making, with expert precision. It was safe to say that it was her fault I burnt my meals on numerous occasions.

 

Whenever the teacher began to yell at me and call me a brat for almost setting the kitchen on fire, I was forced to do some actual work. But I found myself transfixed, and my eyes would always wander to settle comfortably on her form.

 

Slowly, I began to learn the little traits of hers. Like the way she would cock her head on both sides to criticise her work, furrowing her brow into a scowl. Or sometimes, she would lick the spare icing off her finger in the most amazing way possible (I could swear she knew I was watching and she was actually _trying_ to seduce me, but she would never admit to that even if she was). The best part was that she would make sure nobody was looking before stealing food from everybody’s plates, and it was pretty hilarious to watch her almost get caught. She ate so much!

With each new discovery I made about her, I became more and more entwined into my own curiosity.

 

Okay, so I hate to admit that I had a _huge_ crush on this girl, but I did. I had never even spoken to her, at least not properly, but every time I saw her I was extremely conscious that she was in the room with me.

 

One fateful day in October, I actually spoke to her. That’s right, something _actually_ happened.

 

We had been drafted in food tech to make a pastry dish. So obviously, being the creative genius I am, I simply whipped up some croissants using ready-made pastry mix. It did not take long at all, leaving me free for the rest of the lesson to spy on Sasha (I’m not a stalker, I swear).

 

Beside me, Jean was making a lemon tart thing and rambling on and on about Mikasa. He would not shut up about her goddamn hair. After being his friend for many years I had learnt to block it out, and so I was left staring at Sasha’s pie creation. It looked delicious. So freaking delicious. I had decided that Sasha must be a culinary master, since food presentation seemed to be one of her many talents in the kitchen.

 

I was so busy drooling over the mouth-watering appearance of the pie, that I did not notice the absence of Jean’s love-struck voice at my side. Nor did I notice the appearance of the one and only Sasha Braus.

 

‘You look hungry,’ she giggled. I leapt into the air in fright and spun on my heels. ‘What? Oh... umm... yeah.’ _What am I even saying?_

 

She seemed to find my reaction hilarious, and I could see in her eyes that she was containing a serious amount of laughter. My heart slammed into my throat and I felt sick. What the hell was I supposed to say?

 

‘I’m Sasha Braus,’ she said, finally breaking the most awkward silence I had ever experienced.

‘Springer. Connie Springer.’ I stuttered, hating myself for every word that came out of my mouth. She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, ‘As in, Bond, James Bond?’ She teased. I nodded, ‘Yes. Exactly, actually.’

She giggled, which I couldn’t understand because I literally was not trying to be funny.

 

There was another tense, awkward silence. I racked my brains to find something to say, but there were literally no words. I think I actually forgot how to speak English for a moment. She glanced over at the pie, ‘So, errm, there is no way I’m gonna be able to eat that whole pie by myself. I am gonna need some serious help.’

‘I happen to be an expert in that area.’ I replied, eager at the thought of eating at least half of the pie, ‘What flavour?’

‘Apple.’ She said.

‘Even better.’ I started over toward the dessert. She grabbed my wrist to pull me back, ‘You can’t eat it yet. It hasn’t cooled.’

‘Heat is not an issue. I will brave it if you just give me the pie.’

Sasha was holding back laughter again and at that moment I knew she thought I was a complete idiot. Again, I wasn’t trying to be funny: I just wanted pie. Forget about Sasha; food was more important.

 

‘Okay, how about you join me at lunch and we’ll both eat it.’ She suggested.

 _Wait, did she just ask_ me _out?_ I was totally confused and utterly bewildered, but I decided I should just go with it, ‘Yeah, sounds great.’ I sincerely hope I sounded casual, because inside I was doing a cringe-worthy celebration dance.

   
  
 

* * *

 

 

I was right in all of my assumptions: the pie was absolutely delicious and Sasha was great company. She laughed at everything I said, which I wasn’t used to considering my friends had stopped finding me funny long ago. Although, Sasha genuinely _was_ quite funny and I enjoyed hanging out with her for the first forty-five minutes of lunch hour.

 

More importantly: the pie. It was heavenly: a delicate blend of apple and pastry topped with a light dusting of sugar....

 

‘I am going to marry this pie.’ I mumbled through a mouthful of sweet pastry. Sasha laughed at me again, ‘Wow, that’s extreme.’

‘No. No it isn’t. You are wrong in so many ways.’

 

She cocked her head and stared at me for a moment. It wasn’t long before I grew self-conscious of her big eyes boring into me. ‘What?’

‘You look like Aang.’

‘Wait, what?’ I swallowed the mouthful way too soon, almost choking, as that was not the answer I had been expecting. I was hoping for more of a, _“Hey, how come I haven’t noticed you before; you’re really attractive,”_ kinda thing. But no, because apparently I look like Aang.

‘You know, from Avatar: The Last Airbender.’

‘Yeah I got the reference,’ against my will I erupted into a fit of laughter. I guess, in a way, I did look a little like Aang.

 

‘See, I told you!’ Somebody yelled, approaching our secluded table. I looked up to see Eren, at which point I groaned inwardly.

 

He rested his palms flat on the table, ‘I told you that you looked like Aang and you didn’t believe me.’

‘It’s not that I didn’t believe you it’s–’

‘Hi, I’m Eren.’ He had already moved on to Sasha. She didn’t look uncomfortable in the slightest, instead shooting him a stunning smile and introducing herself. I felt a sight pang of jealousy, but chose to ignore it since I had just met the girl. Getting jealous over her just _looking_ at Eren would be pathetic.

 

Eren glanced at me and nodded his head back toward Sasha, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I glared at him in the most intimidating way I could, and he took the hint. ‘Well, I guess I’d better go,’ he sighed mournfully, ‘Connie is kicking me out again.’ He was being melodramatic about everything, and I wanted nothing more than to break Rule 48 of the bro code and kick him in the balls right there. For Sasha’s sake, I withheld.

 

‘Friend of yours?’ Sasha asked, watching him leave. I narrowed my eyes, ‘Unfortunately.’

‘He seems... um... interesting.’

‘That’s one way of describing him.’

 

The bell rang out loudly, forcing us to get up and leave. Sasha grimaced, banging her head on the table, ‘I don’t wanna go,’ she complained childishly. I shook my head, ‘Me neither. But, we have to.’

She lifted her weary head and clambered to her feet, sealing the lid on the pie box with a click.

 

While she went about the mundane task, I could feel a rising swell of anxiety in my stomach. I spent a good three seconds trying to convince myself that she had offered me pie and lunch and so of course asking her one simple question was no big deal. If I left it much longer, she would have to leave.

 

‘Hey, Sasha? Would you mind if I asked for your number?’ I could tell I sounded awkward and pathetic. If she noticed, she didn’t show it, ‘Sure.’

I suppressed an idiotic grin, instead attempting to exchange numbers in a cool, _normal_ , manner. In case you haven’t already realised, my friends and I were not exactly normal.

 

Having successfully gained Sasha’s number went down as a huge accomplishment in my book, and I walked out the door with a new spring in my step. Eren was there to congratulate me, at which point I realised he had been spying on us the whole time. I arrived at the conclusion that Jean had probably sent him to embarrass me, but nonetheless he gave me a fist-bump of celebration.

   
  
 

* * *

 

 

The evening was spent mulling around my house in search of something to do. After meeting the girl I was fascinated with and spending an entire hour with her, I found that I had definitely developed a crush. Well, at least that was the point I admitted it to myself.

 

My room felt lonely. Incredibly lonely. I was struck with a barely-repressible urge to text her right then. I knew it would look desperate and I knew I must contain myself, so I played hours and hours of video games instead.

 

Before I knew it, it was two o’clock in the morning, and I was sat in the dark with the bed sheets draped over my head. The glow from my PC was the only light in the room. With a deep, mournful sigh, I dragged myself into bed.

 

Sleep washed over me fast, bringing with it thoughts of her.

 

* * *

   
  
 

Morning light shone through the gaps around the edges of the black-out blinds in my room, rudely awakening me from a peaceful slumber.

 

As much as the prospect of school haunted me day-in and day-out, I was quite excited at the thought of speaking to Sasha again. Why was I so fascinated with her so damn quickly?

 

I swung my legs out from the bed, hissing in displeasure when my feet made contact with the freezing wooden floor. Getting ready for school was a half-hour job at best, in my book. I had no hair to style or anything, so it was as simple as showering and throwing on my clothes rather carelessly before shooting out the door.

 

But on this morning, I was distracted by several short vibrations from my desk. _Bzzt. Bzzt_. A text. I hoped with all my heart that it would be Sasha. Especially since, if it wasn’t, it was either Jean going on about Mikasa, or one of my friends kindly deciding to get an early start in taking the piss out of me.

 

**_From: Sasha_ **

Please try to imagine my excitement.

 

**_Quick I need help, Aang. Tell me you did the science homework._ **

****

I smiled.

 

**_From: Connie_ **

**_Aww, cute, you actually think I do homework :)_ **

****

**_From: Sasha_ **

**_Don’t call me cute you idiot I need that homework!!!_ **

****

**_From: Connie_ **

**_Alright jeez don’t get violent. I can’t help you. But we both have Miss Zoe this year and trust me she does not care. As long as she gets to blow shit up she’s happy._ **

****

**_From: Sasha_ **

**_God I hope so, but just in case... I need help studying._ **

****

Perhaps this was my chance.

 

**_From: Connie_ **

**_Okay. My parents are going out tonight so I can help you if you come round to my house._ **

 

My thumb hovered over the send button for around ten seconds. I just didn’t have the guts. After internally screaming at myself to grow a pair, I finally pushed it.

 

The few minutes waiting for a reply were agonising and filled with regret. It was a short space of time, but enough to consider every possible thing that could go wrong.

 

_Bzzt. Bzzt._

 

**From: Sasha**

**Thank you!!! You are a lifesaver. Also, please teach me your waterbending skills.**

**From: Connie**

**I work best as an airbender, actually.**

I tightened my school tie around my neck, grinning happily to myself. _Connie Springer, lady-killer._


	2. Grave Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scary movies, pizza, and a haunting experience

Excitement had been coursing through my veins all day. Tonight was the night that Sasha was coming over. To my house. It occurred to me right before I left for school that I hadn’t actually asked my parents if it was okay.

 

‘Mum, can I have a friend over later?’

My mother gave me an awful expression in reply; one eyebrow raised and lips curled into a smirk, ‘A _friend_ , eh?’

‘What?’ I asked.

‘You never gave me a name, which means it’s a girl.’

‘How did you get that from what I said?!’ I raised my voice incredulously.

‘Because I’m your mother, that’s why. What’s her name?’

‘I never said it was a she.’

‘But it is. So what’s her name.’

 

It was useless arguing with my mum. She really did know everything. I sighed, ‘Sasha.’

‘Ooooh,’ she cooed, ‘Is she your _girlfriend_?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want her to be?’

‘No.’

‘Good job, because you probably couldn’t make her fall for you anyway.’

My jaw fell open, ‘Mum!’

‘Sorry,’ she chuckled, patting me on the head, ‘Sure she can come over. Just... um... don’t get up to anything... you know.’

‘Mum,’ I glared at her.

‘Alright, sorry, I’m going now anyway.’

 

She plucked her bag up off the counter and strolled out of the room. ‘Have fun!’ She called over her shoulder.

 

My day at school was pretty boring and depressing. I had no lessons at all with Sasha, which was kind of sad, and at lunch I was dragged away by Eren to referee an arm wrestling tournament (don’t ask).

 

It was pretty much hell, with the entirety of my day spent watching every single second tick by on the clock as I thought about her hair or her laugh or her eyes. That girl would be in my house later. _In my house_. The thought was almost too much to bare.

 

By fifth period, I was dying inside. A knot tightened in my stomach with each passing minute, bringing with it a cocktail of excitement and anxiety. My mind was much too preoccupied to concentrate on school subjects, with the prospect of an evening spent with Sasha causing the excitement to bubble in my veins.

 

The ringing of the bell startled me, and that’s when I realised that I had spent all of my time laying on the desk thinking of a  movie to watch with her. Maybe a scary film would be good. I could do the old arm-around-the-shoulder trick to comfort her when she’s scared. Or was that too cliché?

 

Either way, it was time to leave. I hurriedly threw my belongings unceremoniously into my school bag and raced out of the door, sending at least half a dozen first years crashing into the walls of the corridor. I didn’t stop to apologise. I didn’t care. First years were all scum, anyway.

 

Sasha would not be coming over to my house until four o’clock, leaving me with around forty-five minutes to spare after I’d gotten home. But I felt the need to clean my room and make it look moderately presentable.

 

I whipped around the room like a tornado, shoving most of the belongings into the wardrobe, which I afterward struggled to shut due to the overflowing mass of dirty laundry. However, I suspected it was better than allowing a girl I just met to see my boxer shorts.

 

Clothes were my next issue. I didn’t really care much for fashion, either. But again, I had to look at least moderately presentable. In the end I picked out some jeans and a navy blue hoodie which I slipped on over my shirt.

 

When I had finally finished, it was 3:59pm. Sasha would be here any moment. I felt increasingly apprehensive.

 

4:00pm. The time was ticking by.

 

4:01pm. She was probably late for everything.

 

By the time it got to 4:15pm, I was beginning to get agitated. But just then, thankfully, somebody rang the doorbell.

 

I could not have run downstairs faster if I’d tried, considering that I fell almost half of the way anyway. I could see a figure through the frosted glass in the tiny window of the doorway. Without stopping to check who it was, I undid the latch and yanked the door open.

 

Sasha was standing there, wearing skinny jeans (wow) and a cute jumper (wow), and precariously balanced on one hand was a flat cardboard box. She smiled warmly, ‘Sorry I’m late. I brought pizza.’

Sounds like my kinda girl. ‘What kind of pizza?’ I asked, furrowing my brows.

‘Pepperoni.’

‘In that case, you may come in.’

 

I stepped aside to let her into my house. She took a step inside and immediately took in the scenery of my kitchen, judging. She gave a satisfactory nod, ‘Nice place.’

I considered replying with, ‘ _And we have it all to ourselves,’_  but I stopped myself after realising that it sounded creepy and/or slightly perverted. I withheld. _Think before you speak, Connie._

 

She looked at me expectantly with those big, tawny eyes of hers, and suddenly I realised she was expecting me to do something. My brain suddenly started functioning again, and I jumpstarted into life.

 

‘Oh... yeah... Let’s go upstairs and watch a movie or something.’ I began to lead the way, feeling awkward as hell. Every time I was around her I seemed to slip up in some ridiculous fashion. But, hey, she was still here, right? Despite all my antics?

‘Ooh, what kind of movie,’ thankfully, Sasha seemed as cheery as ever.

‘The scary kind.’

‘Yayy!’ She cried, ‘I love scary movies.’

‘Great,’ I grimaced, with the sudden feeling that _I_ would be the one screaming.

 

We entered my bedroom, my heart pounding a little, and once again Sasha adopted a judging expression as her eyes turned a circle around the boxed room. ‘ _Wow_ ,’ she said a little mockingly.

‘What?’

‘I never took you as the clean type.’

As it turns out, I had spent a good ten minutes cleaning for nothing. She didn’t care. I smirked wryly, ‘Open the closet.’

 

Shooting me a suspicious glance, she set down the pizza box and opened the closet door. A pile of clothes tumbled out, landing at her feet. She leapt back in surprise, before beginning to laugh, ‘ _There_ it is!’

 

‘Yeah, now help me shove all that crap back in there.’ I moved over to scoop up the pile in my arms and attempted to stuff it all back on the shelves. Sasha put in a weak effort to help me, which resulted in the doors only half closing because of the half-assed job we made of it. Both of us shrugged simultaneously, and Sasha immediately dove on my bed. ‘Comfy.’ She remarked.

 

I knelt on the floor beside my DVD rack and began scanning it for films. ‘So, where are your parents tonight?’ Sasha inquired. I could feel her eyes boring into my back.

‘My dad’s working away, and my mum’s staying at her sister’s tonight to babysit my niece.’

‘Oh... cool.’ The classic answer for somebody who didn’t really have an interesting response.

 

‘What about _your_ mum and dad? Tell me your tragic back-story.’

 

There was a long pause before Sasha finally spoke. ‘Umm, not much to tell. I was raised on the other side of this country. Both of my parents are police officers, and they usually work the night shift. I practically raised myself. I’m fine with that, though. We moved here at the start of August... and here I am.’

 

I nodded slowly, sliding a DVD case from the shelf. ‘I see,’ I remarked casually. ‘Brothers or sisters?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t you get lonely?’

‘All the time.’ She nodded slightly, ‘Especially at night. My house is always really empty and sometimes it’s kind of sad.’

 

I looked at her sombre expression, which suddenly flashed in shock as she realised that she had admitted to me her sadness, which was clearly a private thing to her. Before I could stop myself, I vomited the words out of my mouth, ‘You could always stay here, if you’d like. My parents wouldn’t mind.’

 

 _Think before you speak, Connie_. _You barely know her._

 

Then it was my turn to look shocked in an instant of verbal catastrophe. Sasha just cocked her head quizzically , ‘You sure?’

‘I... umm...’ _Shit_ , ‘Yeah.’

‘If it’s not a problem, then...’

‘Umm...’

‘It’s just... I do get awfully lonely.’

‘Well, just ask.’

 

 _What am I saying? What am I actually saying?_ If Sasha Braus was sleeping in my home, I don’t know what I would do. Was that even a good idea? I knew that my mother would in fact allow it (if you haven’t realised, she is just about the most laid-back mum you could ever meet), but that still didn’t excuse the fact that I would struggle to contain my overflowing testosterone.

 

Pushing all of these thoughts aside, I crawled over to the Xbox 360 and inserted the disc. The green light flashed and there was a whirring sound from within the console.

 

Sasha was way ahead of me, taking the controller into her hands and piloting it for me. I clambered onto the mattress and planted myself beside her, gathering the covers up around my legs.

 

Beside me, Sasha leaned over and plucked a pillow out from behind me. I watched her as she tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around the pillow. I stifled a laugh at her excited yet apprehensive expression.

 

I slowly pried open the top of the pizza box and tore away one of the ready-made slices, watching the stringy ropes of cheese stretch away. Sasha’s mouth was practically watering at the sight of the delicious, greasy mess. I mean, who doesn’t love pizza? My god, this one was especially delicious. Hands down the best pizza I’ve ever had. I would marry it. (Despite what Sasha says, I do _not_ have a physical attraction to food in any way).

 

The beginning of the movie was pretty goddamned boring, in all honesty. Just some over-acting American idiot hosting a ghost-hunting show. I could tell that maybe it would get a little creepy, but I had heard from Jean and Marco that this film wasn’t too scary.

 

‘Sasha, she’s called Sasha.’ Sasha muttered dryly as the main characters were introduced. There was one girl amongst the group, and her name was Sasha, much to Braus’ discomfort. ‘I bet she dies. I just know it.’

 

Quite a while went by after the group had locked themselves in a haunted insane asylum (I’m an idiot and even I know that’s stupid) without anything really happening. I was beginning to get bored. And tired.

 

It was around then that one of the men in the movie set his handheld camera down on the floor to grab his mobile phone, and it just so happened that the lens was focused on an abandoned wheelchair in the hallway.

 

‘It’s gonna move. It’s gonna move. It’s gonna move.’ I murmured subconsciously to myself.

‘Ssshh!’ Sasha hissed, launching a pillow at my head.

 

Sure enough, with a small creak, the wheelchair shifted a little bit. And that commenced the rest of the scary stuff. I say scary, but it wasn’t really too bad.

 

One of the more horrifying bits came when the group of idiotic main characters had gathered in one room of the asylum to sleep. Though the film wasn’t scary, the place was hella creepy. I would _not_ spend a night in there alone. No way. I certainly wouldn’t sleep in there, especially after what happened in the movie.

 

They lifted the hem of Sasha’s shirt to find the word _“Hello_ ” etched into her back with a razor blade. Beside me, Sasha squirmed and let out a little squeak, ‘That is _not_ okay!’

‘Hell no.’ I shook my head, pulling the sheets a little tighter around me. A comfort blanket. If I only I could have used Sasha instead.

 

Every time something remotely scary happened, Sasha would interrupt the film to make a comment. I couldn’t complain, though, since honestly I kept muttering under my breath when I got scared.

 

‘Shit! No! No no no no no...’ Sasha cried, along with a garbled, mashed-up sentence of horrendous curse words. I burst out laughing. Sasha turned to me, eyes slightly widened, ‘Sorry.’

 

Again, another scary bit was when they were stood in a corridor somewhere, looking around in desperation as they wondered what to do. Suddenly, a hand shot out from one of the windows and grabbed movie Sasha’s throat.

 

Once again, the Sasha beside me yelped. ‘I TOLD YOU SHE WOULD DIE!’ She yelled, partly in fear as she leapt across the distance between us. I stared at her in wide-eyed shock as she clung to my arm in fear. However, she never took her eyes away from the screen. I tried to slow my racing heart rate, ‘”I love scary movies” my ass.’ I drawled, receiving a contemptuous look for Sasha as a response.

 

Movie Sasha didn’t die. After the chaos had subsided, real-life Sasha released her claw-like grip on my arm. Although her painful grasp had probably left deep indents on my arm, I hadn’t wanted her to let go. I had been hyperaware of her body by my side, and the lack of her present was discomforting.

 

The ending of the film came much too fast, though I wanted it to go on longer. I wanted more scary moments, where Sasha would bury her face in my bicep.

 

‘God, Sasha is _so_ whiny!’ Sasha complained.

‘Yeah, tell me about it,’ I teased, staring pointedly at her. She scowled at me and hit me over the head with a pillow. I covered my face weakly with one arm, laughing.

 

Darkness had fallen slowly as we had watched the movie, casting my bedroom into shadow. The only light came from the TV screen, with the credits scrolling over the black background.

 

Both of us stared, in confusion at the horrific ending to the movie, and refused to move. ‘Wait... what?’ She muttered.

‘I... I don’t know...’ I whispered in response. It was the biggest, weirdest cliff-hanger ever.

 

‘Turn on the lights,’ Sasha hissed, glancing around my unfamiliar room. I shuffled slowly to the edge of the bed and clambered over to the door, where I fumbled over the walls for the light switch.

 

The bulb switched on with an audible click. I was ready to let out a sigh of relief, but then the lamps flickered and fizzled out.

 

Sasha squeaked, pulling my pillow up to her face and curling up into a ball. Her tawny eyes darted around the room, checking for any faces lurking in the corners. My eyes flitted around, too, helping her scour out the dark.

 

‘What happened?’ Her whimpering voice cut through the darkness. I shrugged, shaking my head wildly, ‘I don’t know!’

Slowly, Sasha crawled over to the window, peering out into the darkness. ‘I think there’s a power cut.’ She informed me.

‘Brilliant.’

 

I glanced at the floor, ‘Let’s see if we can switch it back on at the fuse box.’

‘Okay,’ she responded uncertainly, uncurling from her ball shape and slipping onto the floor. Cautiously, I pulled the door to my room ajar and peered out. Everything was dark.

 

Sasha placed a tentative hand on my shoulder, once again alerting me to her presence in my home, and began to push me. ‘Go,’ she whispered repeatedly. I took a step out of my room, along the landing and toward the staircase.

 

The hand on my shoulder tensed and nails dug into my skin as a floorboard creaked underfoot. If I was attempting to be proud, I would say that I wasn’t as on edge as Sasha was. But if I’m being honest, I _was_. It was extremely plausible that some weird insane girl would materialise at the bottom of the staircase and when she turned her face would stretch and contort, resulting in the death of both me and Sash.

 

I placed a hand on the surface of the smooth banister and began to make my way down the stairs.

 

 _Bang_. A huge clatter behind me forced me to react quickly. My hand slid down and took Sasha by the wrist, dragging her down the staircase two-at-a-time. ‘Connie!’ She yelped as she tripped. Her body smacked into me, knocking me over and sending us both catapulting down the stairs.

 

I landed with a heavy thud at the bottom, all the wind knocked out of me upon impact. I grunted in pain as Sasha fell on top of me, laying across my stomach. Dazed, I stared at the ceiling.

 

Sasha suddenly erupted into uncontrollable laughter, building until there was no longer any noise coming out; she was just shaking. I started to laugh, too, all fear forgotten.

 

She took in a huge gulp of air, still chuckling slightly, ‘You idiot! I tripped over a box!’

‘What?’

‘That noise. I tripped over something!’

‘Oh...’ I felt my face flushing slightly in remembrance of the plastic box I had noticed earlier as the top of the stairs, very embarrassed by such an overreaction.

 

‘Come on,’ she sighed amusedly, clambering to her feet and reaching out a hand. I gratefully took it as she pulled me to my feet.

‘The fuse box is this way.’ I brushed the entire situation aside, stumbling through the darkness toward the utility room at the back of the house.

 

The room was tiny, containing only a washing machine, dryer and boiler, along with the fuse box. I hurriedly opened the door and squinted at the mess of knobs and wires within. With absolutely no clue what I was doing, I began to fiddle and fumble with everything inside.

 

Just as I considered that there was a high chance of my electrocution, I flicked a switch and the lights began to glow again. I made a small noise in triumph, a grin spreading across my face.

 

‘Sash, check it ou–’ I turned to find that Sasha was gone. The smile dropped from my face. ‘Sash?’

I yanked open the door to the utility room and peered around, but Sasha was nowhere to be seen.

‘Sash?’

 

With quiet, cautious footsteps, I tiptoed out into the corridor. My heart was racing faster. Where was she?

‘Please tell me the demons didn’t get you.’ I hissed into the darkness, only half-kidding.

 

I heard a clattering sound coming from the kitchen. Was somebody else in my house?

‘Sasha?’ I called again, advancing toward the room. No response.

 

My palms were sweating. _Calm down_ , I kept telling myself. _It’s nothing_.

 

A loud noise startled me, and I leapt into the air in fright. The nerves along my spine tingled in warning, and I honestly thought for a brief second that I was going to die. The light in the kitchen was switched on, and I tried to peer into the room. But I could see nothing. Not a single movement.

 

Heart beating slightly irregularly, I crept a few steps forward, into the kitchen. I could still see nobody. I had just heard a noise in here, where had it come from? My eyes focused on the island in the centre of the kitchen. Maybe somebody was behind that.

 

I swallowed, my mouth dry. Suddenly, a head popped up from behind the marble surface. I gasped in fright, stepping backwards in preparation to run.

 

‘Sorry!’ Sasha smiled with a smile on her face, ‘I got hungry.’ She shrugged.

I sagged in relief, wishing that my heart rate would slow down a little faster. I sighed, trying to comfort myself as I took in the sight of Sasha with cookie crumbs around her face.

 

‘What the hell was that noise?’

‘I smashed a glass,’ she said guiltily, looking at me apologetically. I smiled back at her, ‘Jesus, Sash, you scared the shit outta me.’

‘ _Awwwh_ ,’ She mocked, ‘Is little Connie _scaaaarrrred?_ ’ She gave a grand pout, speaking to me like I was a baby.

‘No!’ I snapped in reply.

She gave me a wry grin, one that suited her face, ‘Suuuure.’

 

* * *

 

It was 11pm when Sash finally left. She seemed reluctant to go, and I didn’t want her to leave, either.

 

Before she walked out of the door, she gave me a friendly hug. _Friendly_. It took all the effort I possessed to keep my brain away from “impure” thoughts, if you catch my drift. To her, it was just a hug and nothing more. And that’s how I felt, too. Sort of.

 

When the front door closed behind her, I was left with a rather unmanly bittersweet feeling, like the grains left in the bottom of a coffee cup.

 

With a smile still evident on my tired face, I trudged upstairs and crawled under my bed sheets. My head flopped on top of the pillow, and a sweet, floral scent hit my nose. _Sasha_. My face was pressed against the very pillow which she had been cuddling all evening.

 

That night, I allowed sleep to wash over me quickly. My mind was too busy wandering to thoughts of Sasha rather than terrifying demon people. I was thankful for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me aaaaages and I don't even like it, but hey, enjoy :)


	3. I Won't Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its sleep over time!!!!!

‘I expect that the _complete_ project will be handed to me next week,’ Mr Rivaille’s strict tone had held a hushed anxiety over the rest of the room. His emphasis on the word “complete” was very clear, and we all knew we’d be dead if we didn’t hand this homework in.

Who the hell gets food technology homework, anyway?

 

That lecture had occurred earlier this week, and was the current cause of my worry. It was Friday, period five, and I was about to explode with stress. The project was pretty huge – a whole leaflet, complete with graphs constructed through our own research – and it was due in almost straight after the weekend. There was no way I could get it finished in time. Even for somebody as skilled at procrastinating as myself, there was just no way.

 

Luckily, I was in a position where I knew somebody else who would be in exactly the same situation as myself.

 

‘Connie, I really need your help.’ _Bingo_. Sasha bounced over to me from the other side of the registration room, with a look of utter concern on her face.

‘What’s up, Sash?’

‘You know that homework from Rivaille?’

‘I haven’t done it.’

‘Can I...’ Her facial expression dropped further, ‘Wait, what?’

‘I told you,’ I laughed, ‘I don’t do homework. Did you think I was kidding?’

‘But he’ll _murder_ us.’

I cocked my head, knowing that she was entirely right. ‘Yeeeeaaaah,’ I sighed deeply, drawing out that one word in a gesture of regret toward leaving the project until the last minute.

 

Sasha’s eyebrows creased into an expression of thoughtfulness. Her palms were flat on the table in front of me as she stared at the dents in the wood, only used for the decrepit desks in science block. Then suddenly, her tawny eyes brightened up as the light bulb in her brain clicked on. She snapped her fingers rather dramatically ‘Ah-ha!’

 

‘What?’ I shot a sideways glance at her.

‘Come over to my house later and we’ll both help each other with our projects. Agreed?’

I weighed the option up in my mind. An evening at Sasha’s house? I’d take that any day, even if we _were_ doing shitty homework.

‘Sure. I’ll ask my parents.’

‘Great!’ I saw Sasha physically sag with relief as a smile spread across her face.

 

Behind her, I saw Jean and Marco carrying out an ungraceful celebratory dance on my behalf. Sasha spun and walked back to her desk, at which point my two other friends halted their dance. But as soon as she was out of sight, it started up again; a horrific mess of gyrating hips and flailing arms. ‘Shut the fuck up.’ I barked at both of them, planting a fist in Jean’s stomach.

‘Ow!’ He growled, ‘That was uncalled for.’

            And so that was that: yet another evening spent with Sasha, in the bag.

 

**

 

I had checked with my mum immediately after, via text, and she had willingly agreed under the condition that I was home by eleven. I thought that was a reasonable condition, and throughout the day I became increasingly excited.

 

Before I knew it, almost before I was even ready, it was the end of the day. I had agreed to walk home from school with Sash, since we already had all our school equipment in our bags and all. So as the bell rang we met up quite urgently near the front gates, where we began our eager stroll to freedom.

 

The air was cold and chilly with the onset of winter, and so every time I exhaled I would release a billowing cloud of steam into the air. Sasha chuckled, telling me it looked as though I was blowing cigarette smoke. I hastily stepped to my own defence, at which point she insisted that I “looked like the type of skinhead who’d be smoking weed.” Brilliant. The only response I could think of was ‘4:20 blaze it,’ which did nothing to fight my case, but at least it got a laugh out of Sasha.

‘Well, you ain’t smoking anything in _my_ house.’ She scolded.

I shrugged, digging my hands into pockets to protect them from the cold.

 

Sasha’s house was of a moderate size and appearance; inconspicuous would be the word. It was not outstanding in any way, and was just what I expected when I envisioned a polite family home. Most houses on the street had lovely, neat front gardens with flower arrangements. Sasha’s was much more simple, but not neglected. ‘The old lady next door tends the garden every summer, in return for me feeding her cat when she goes away to visit her children,’ Sasha explained to me.

 

The inside of the house was not particularly spectacular, either. Homely decor, with nothing too extravagant or bizarre. The walls and furniture were an array of soft browns and creams, making the entire house seem warm and comforting. With an atmosphere like that, I immediately felt at ease. Sasha did too – she did not at all seem fazed by my presence in her home.

 

I bet you can guess, but as soon as she had discarded her coat she headed straight for the fridge.

‘You want anything?’ She called over her shoulder.

‘What have you got?’

‘Hmmm....’ She hummed to herself as she scanned the shelves. ‘How do you feel about cheesecake?’

‘Cheesecake?’ My eyes lit up, ‘I feel good about cheesecake.’

‘Good.’ She pulled the mouth-watering dessert from the fridge, elegantly balanced on a frosted glass tray. About a quarter of it had already been eaten, with evidence left on the tray in the form of scattered biscuit crumbs.

 

Sasha proceeded to take a cake-slicer and two small plates from the cupboards. I could feel myself beginning to salivate as she cut the cheesecake into even slices and placed it delicately on the plates. She handed me my portion and suggested we eat it upstairs, beginning to lead the way.

 

Her room was just as I had expected it would be. I was envious of her double bed, set in a chrome frame and with the headboard pushed against the back wall. Fairy lights were strung across the wall above the bed, typical of a girly room. The walls were only plain white, but a splash of colour was added from the pink accents around the room. A small TV was hung on the wall at the end of the bed, hovering over a wooden desk with a PC monitor on top.

 

‘So we need to get started on this project,’ Sasha stated, dumping her bag unceremoniously on the floor and proceeding to take out her stationary. ‘Turn on the computer, and you can start the research.’

‘What are you gonna do?’

‘Get started on the leaflet creation.’

For the project, we had to create a leaflet promoting healthy eating, after conducting research about current levels of healthy eating in the community and a load of other bullshit I really didn’t care about.

 

I crossed over to the desk and switched on the PC, placing my schoolbag and cheesecake on the surface. The computer fired up pretty quickly, and I was left facing the Windows log-in screen. ‘Password.’ I called over my shoulder.

Sasha shot to her feet and darted over, shooting me a warning glance to look away. I responded with an offended expression, turning my head away as she tapped away at the keys. I turned back when I heard the _click_ of the enter key, which she hit quite dramatically, if you ask me. She shrugged almost apologetically, ‘I don’t like people knowing my passwords.’

 

So with that I opened up internet explorer. My fingers danced over the keyboard without actually typing anything, as I wondered what on earth I was actually supposed to be researching. ‘Um... Sash... What do I type?’

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and began to laugh.

 

That commenced our homework session for the night. Personally, my job was to copy and paste information onto a word document in between shovelling mouthfuls of cheesecake into my mouth. Although, it only lasted around five minutes before Sasha, who was knelt on the floor drawing some kick-ass line art on a blank piece of paper, looked up at me with a strained expression, ‘Man, all this thought about food is making me hungry.’

‘We’ve barely done anything.’

‘Who cares. D’ya want some food?’

As she spoke, my stomach made a low rumbling sound. I glanced at the clock, somehow, it was already 4:30. I nodded enthusiastically, ‘Yeah.’

Sasha cocked her head with a glint of annoyance in her eyes, ‘I can’t really be bothered to cook, though. Is baked potato okay?’

I gave her a nod, and she disappeared downstairs for a moment.

 

In her absence, I glanced around the room once again. My eyes flitted over every single one of her belongings, and rested upon the draw sitting at the side of her bed. I couldn’t help but wonder was in there. What on earth do girl’s store in their private drawers, anyway? I don’t suppose it’s a mess of random electrical wires and batteries like the typical “man drawer.” I was left battling with my self-control, tempted to take a peek but not willing to risk Sasha being annoyed at me. So I just stared, squinting, at the front of the drawer, as though narrowing my eyes would grant me with some form of X-ray vision. Before long, my efforts became hopeless. Sasha hadn’t returned from the kitchen yet, and whatever she was doing seemed to be taking way too long. Maybe it was possible for me to take a look while she was gone.

 

I slid off the chair tucked beneath her desk, and took a single step across the room toward the drawer. But, just as I was beginning to reach my hand out...

 

‘Hey!’

 _Well, shit._ I turned to find Sasha standing in the doorway, hands on hips and one eyebrow raised. I shot her an anxious glance, and she only hardened her facial expression. With two powerful strides she reached the bed, picked up a pillow and smacked me over the head with it. ‘ _Never_ go into a girl’s drawer.’

‘Why not? What the hell do you have in there?’

She shrugged, ‘For all you know, it’s a nuclear weapon to destroy the entire world.’

‘Or...?’

‘Shush. _Never_ do that again.’

‘But–’

‘Never!’ She scolded, launching the pillow at my head again.

 

‘Oh I see,’ the corners of my lips turned up into a wry smile, eyes glinting mischievously, ‘Two can play at that game.’ In one smooth, fluid movement, I plucked her spare pillow from the bed and swung it at her. It made contact right on the side of her face, scuffing up her loose fringe. She was left glaring at me for a second, lips set into a scowl.

 

‘Oh hell no,’ she tutted very slightly, and then stooped to pick up her weapon from the floor. I already had mine grasped very tightly in my hand, and so it was easy to block her shot. However, the commencing of the pillow fight was enough to start my chuckling. I doubled over with laughter when she missed; Sasha cleverly took her opportunity to hit me on the back. It was all too easy for her.

 

I remained in my stooped position, charging at her to knock her off balance. She was somehow rooted in place, having possibly anticipated my attack, and that’s when she launched a kick at my shins. I jumped back, making a noise halfway between a frightened cat and a dying seal. Sasha was laughing hysterically, but still managed to land a blow with the pillow on my side.

 

I was laughing at my own frightened yelps so much that I had to close my eyes before I started crying. Sasha was in the same state. Neither of us could make a move as we clutched the pillows to our chests and wiped the forming tears from the corners of our eyes.

When I had managed to regain most of the oxygen in my lungs, I looked over to Sasha, who was still giggling. ‘Call it a draw?’ I asked. The smile dropped from her face and she once again became serious, ‘So soon? No way, Springer.’

 

Before I had a chance to even process what she was saying, she smacked her pillow into the side of my face. I attacked back, hitting her in the waist. I didn’t hit her with my full strength, obviously, since she was a delicate female. Except for the fact that she hits with the force of a freaking monster truck, clearly not holding back. Sometimes it even hurt, despite that fact that she was hitting me with a _pillow_ , of all weapons. But still, I could not bring myself to hit her very hard at all.

 

The fight continued this way for at least another ten minutes, filled with playful giggles and many pre-meditated tactical attacks. It came to an end when Sasha finally got bored of hitting me with a pillow, and decided to full-on rugby tackle me to the floor. I fell with a heavy thud, tensing my neck so I didn’t crack my head on the floor. Pain was spreading through the base of my spine, a dull ache in my bones. But still, the whole event of a girl managing to deck me was pretty funny, so I continued to laugh until my abs hurt.

 

My awareness of my surroundings suddenly reached maximum height, and I was overwhelmed by my sudden realisation: Sasha was on top of me. How _the fuck_ had I not realised this sooner? She was literally on top of me, with her thighs on either side of my body, keeping my arms pressed firmly to my sides. _Oh good Lord_. The speed at which the smile disappeared from my face was lightning quick, replaced with confusion as I tried to keep my mind away from forbidden thoughts. Memories of the pillow fight were far away, buried in a foggy haze. In fact, _everything_ was buried in a foggy haze. All I could think about was the way her legs felt against my bare arms, and the way her hair was falling around her face as she looked down at me with a coy smirk.

 

 _No, no, no, Connie... Think of puppies and school and people you hate_. I had to do anything I could to ensure my mind was far away from the thoughts I was currently thinking. Sasha was _not_ going to have sex with me, no matter how much I pictured it. And getting an awkward boner at that point would only ruin things. _No, no, god please no..._

 

Her maroon fringe was falling so delicately over her face, with gravity pulling it toward the floor, toward me. Her tawny eyes were glittering with mischievousness, and they were focused purely on me. There was a slight red glow about her cheeks, and I don’t know whether she was blushing, or just worked out from the pillow fight. But either way, she looked... beautiful. All she had to do was lean forward a little way and that was it – her lips would be on mine. I wanted nothing more than that, in that moment I just needed to feel how soft her lips were against mine.

 

Whether my imagination was deceiving me, or not, Sasha leant forward very slightly, and then her torso was almost flat against mine. Her lips were ever-so-slightly parted. For a moment, I thought that we would kiss.

 

 _Beep_. The loud sound came from downstairs, and I immediately knew was it was. The fucking oven. Sasha’s face seemed suddenly startled as she sat up, ‘The potatoes!’ She cried. She rolled off me and raced out of the door with barely a glance back. I had just been cockblocked by a kitchen appliance.

 

Disappointedly, I propped myself up on my elbows and stared wistfully at the door, still pushed ajar. I couldn’t get the image of her out of my mind, and something told me my mentality would remain that way for some time to come. The thoughts were only mildly pushed aside by a fresh worry: what would happen when she came back? I highly doubted that she would return and kiss me there and then. Which left the high possibility of an awkward tension filling the room for the rest of the night whilst we both pretended it had never happened.

 

Sulking, I crept placed both pillows back on her bed and fluffed them up, before returning to the desk. I tucked the chair under the table and sat comfortably, continuing to copy and paste useless information onto a Microsoft Word document. Just short of ten minutes later, Sasha pushed the door open with her hip, balancing two plates on the palms of her hands. ‘One serving of baked potato, beans and cheese,’ she announced with a waitress-like tone, setting my plate down on the desk. It looked delicious for such a simple meal, ‘Thanks.’

She took her plate and went over to her bed, sitting on the edge with the plate in her lap.

 

I picked up the silver cutlery and began to cut into the potato, ensuring that I got potato, baked beans _and_ cheese all onto the fork. The first bite was absolutely heavenly – I had never known potatoes taste so delicious. My face contorted into an expression of delight. Watching me, Sasha smiled, ‘Good?’

‘From now on, I shall call you Potato Girl.’

‘I kinda like that name.’ She laughed.

 

Then she glowered at me, waving her hand, ‘Come on, do some work.’

‘Excuse me, I was doing research while you were downstairs grating cheese!’ I countered. She shrugged, ‘I have to be a good hostess, as well as completing the project.’

‘Yeah, whatever.’ I rolled my eyes at her and turned back to the computer screen.

 

As I had previously predicted, as soon as the conversation stopped, an awkward silence fell on the room. I felt uncomfortable, and couldn’t help but wonder if Sasha felt the same. The only sounds were the occasional clanking of cutlery on plates, or the tapping of computer keys, or the scratching of pens on paper. Maybe I only felt awkward because I couldn’t stop thinking about our almost-kiss. If she wasn’t thinking about that, then perhaps she felt okay. And if I could only _stop_ thinking about it, then maybe I would too. I felt a compelling urge to turn back and glance at her; to check on her and see if she was okay. Only, I also felt that I shouldn’t. So I tried my best to focus on the researching.

 

The night went by mostly the same, with the time ticking away slowly. I finished my research by around six o’clock, and migrated to the floor to work with Sasha on the leaflet and posters. Conversation resumed between us, yet I still sensed a delicate tension in the air. I hated it, and wished it would go away.

 

10:30pm, and we’d almost finished. I knew I’d have to go home soon, at which I was both disappointed and relieved. When I arrived back home, I would have time to think about what happened and calm down, but that didn’t stop me from not wanting to abandon Sasha. I pushed the thoughts away, concentrating on the task at hand – at this point we just had to cut and stick a few more things. For this small job, we had both moved up onto Sasha’s bed, sick of the uncomfortable floor.

 

Cut, stick, cut, stick... the action was monotonous. It seemed that every thirty seconds I was letting out a yawn, a movement which Sasha copied every time without fail. We were both so tired, and bored of work. I could feel my eyelids drooping. Slowly, calmly, my body relaxed, and I fell fast asleep...

 

**

 

I blinked my eyes open with a small amount of difficulty, awoken by the light filtering in through the window. The sun was beginning to get high in the sky, spreading lanky squares of light across Sasha’s bed. At first, I barely recognised where I was. Slowly, my memories trickled back and I remembered falling asleep whilst completing the homework. I briefly wondered why Sasha hadn’t woken me, until I saw her curled up on the bed, still fully clothed and clearly very tired.

 

Exhaustion thrummed at my temples, leaving me with a sickly groggy feeling. I slid my phone out of my pocket, squinting at the bright light, 9:00am. ‘Shit.’ I muttered, aware of my eleven o’clock curfew, which I had evidently missed by ten hours. The second thing that struck me was the missed messages.

 

**_6 missed calls._ **

**_5 unread messages._ **

I groaned, unlocking my phone. The first five missed calls were from my mum; the last was from Jean. I moved on to the texts.

 

**_From: Mum_ **

**_Connie it’s 11:30 where are you? x_ **

****

**_From: Mum_ **

**_I’m serious, are you dead? x_ **

****

**_From: Mum_ **

**_Answer your goddamn phone I’m worried! I’m going to assume you’re still at Sasha’s, in which case you need to call me as soon as you can. I’m gonna kick your ass as soon as you get home, I really am x_ **

****

My mum is a really loving person, if you can’t tell. Her texts were filled with such sincerity. Wow. (Sarcasm, if you couldn’t tell.)

 

**_From: Jean_ **

**_Yo, your mum wanted me to call you. She thinks you’re dead_ **

****

**_From: Jean_ **

**_Ohhhhh, you’re still at Sasha’s house! Make sure you use protection :P_ **

****

Brilliant. I love my friends, really I do (again, sarcasm). Throwing my phone back on the bed, I crept around the other side of the bed to where Sasha was sleeping. I reached my hand out for a moment, about to wake her, but then I paused. She looked so cute while she was sleeping, like a little kitten or something. Smiling a little, I prodded her sharply in the side. ‘Sash. Sash.’ I was momentarily startled by how croaky and hoarse my voice was.

 

Sasha groaned, ‘What?’ Her eyelids were still firmly closed.

‘We fell asleep.’

‘Thanks, Sherlock.’ She rolled over. I poked her again, ‘ _Sasha_.’

‘No.’

‘I have to go home.’

‘Good. Get out of my house.’

I started laughing, ‘Sasha, I’m serious. Give me food before I go.’

She reached above her head, picked up a pillow, and threw it at me. I caught it in my hands, grinning,  ‘Don’t start this again.’

 

Frowning, she sighed and hauled herself out of bed. ‘Alright, alright.’ She rubbed at her eyes and pulled a hand through her fringe. ‘Breakfast time.’ She barely even looked at me before she plodded wearily out of the room.

‘Let me just call my mum first,’ I called after her.

 

There were three rings before she answered.

‘Where the hell are you?’ Was the first thing she said.

‘Hi, mum. I’m still at Sasha’s.’

‘Why?’ Her tone was harsh and demanding. Suspicious, even.

‘I fell asleep doing the homework.’

‘ _Really?_ ’

‘Mum, I swear to god I did.’

She sighed, ‘Do you have your house keys?’

‘No, I thought I’d be home by now. Why?’

‘Your dad is still away, and I’m working right now, so nobody is in.’

‘Fantastic.’

‘I’ll be home around five, so you’ll have to stay out until then.’

 

After hanging up, I traipsed downstairs into the kitchen. Sasha was frying bacon in a pan. ‘My parents are still out,’ she remarked. ‘Something must’ve gone down at the police station.’

I inhaled deeply through my nose, enjoying the aroma of bacon and egg in the air.

‘Well, my parents are out, too,’ I replied, ‘So I can’t even get into my house.’

‘Oh... What are you doing for the rest of the day, then?’

I shrugged, ‘I have some money in my school bag, so I’ll probably just chill in town all day.’

‘Mind if I come?’

‘No, not at all.’

 

Sasha’s culinary magic was evident once again in the full English breakfast that she presented to me. ‘Not bad, Potato Girl,’ I complimented her on the wonderful cooking.

‘Thanks, Aang.’

 

We ate our meal in silence, recovering from the tiredness we clearly felt. Somehow, my mind wandered back to the previous night, with the pillow fight that ended with Sasha on top of me. My eyes flitted over to her; she didn’t notice. With her interest focused solely on her food, she had no idea I was staring. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

 

After finishing our food, Sasha dumped the plates in the sink and dashed upstairs to get changed. I had no choice but to remain in my clothes from the previous night. When she returned, wearing the same jeans she had worn to my house, she hurriedly scrawled a note to her parents explaining her absence. Then, we left the warmth of the house behind and stepped out to face the cold autumn day.

 

During the remainder of the morning, we huddled inside a Starbucks and drank coffee. Our table was nestled nicely in the corner, giving us a lovely overview of the rest of the shop. From our perch, we watched the customers come and go, quietly discussing the potential lives of each and every one. People watching had to be one of my favourite past-times.

 

In the afternoon, we drifted in and out of various sweet shops in the town centre, and occasionally Sasha dragged me into a clothes shop against my will. Sometimes, as it turned out, she was a real girly girl. At the start, I feigned interest in the pattern and colour and whatever. But by the end I was tired of even faking it, so I just rolled my eyes at her and allowed her to pull me around the shop like a dog on a leash.

 

5pm rolled around pretty quickly, and that’s when Sash and I finally parted ways. She gave me another friendly hug, and I jogged most of the way back to my house. My arrival was welcomed by a scolding from my mother. I talked my way out of it, like I always do, and she let me off with a caution.

 

The time I spent alone in my room after that was time I spent daydreaming about Sasha. I still hadn’t managed to shake the previous night’s events from my mind, and so for a good ten minutes I could do nothing but sit on the edge of my bed and reflect on it. If the oven hadn’t gone off, might we have kissed? Did she regret it? Did she even like me?

 

After coming to absolutely no conclusions all night, I thought it best to play video games for the remainder of the evening. Because what’s a better distraction to get your mind off girls, right?

 

Amongst all the gaming and stuffing my face with food, I barely noticed when somebody knocked on the front door downstairs. I could hear faint voices, and one of them seemed out of place. It was not my mum or dad, or anybody else I recognised from my family. Pausing the game, I began to listen in. It was to no avail.

 

‘Connie!’ I heard my mum clearly shouting my name. I threw the controller ungracefully on my bed and raced out of the door. Curiosity was pulling me down the staircase and into the kitchen. But when I saw her, I kind of wished I had stayed upstairs.

 

Sasha was sitting at the island in the centre of the kitchen, with a tear-stained face, sniffling. My jaw dropped open in shock. Firstly, why was she here at my house, at 11pm? Secondly, why was she crying? She wouldn’t look at me. She _couldn’t_ look at me. I was frozen. I didn’t know what to do.

 

Mum looked almost as uncomfortable as I did, shifting her weight from foot to foot and glancing between the two of us. ‘Connie...’ She started, breaking the silence, ‘Why don’t you... um... take Sasha upstairs. I’ll bring up some water.’

 

I nodded, too choked to speak any words. Gulping, and feeling a lump in my throat, I gently wrapped my fingers around Sasha’s arm and gave her an encouraging tug. She slid off the bar stool, her head hanging toward the floor. I spent a second or two trying to get a look past her fringe, at her face, but she wouldn’t let me. I stopped trying, gently leading her out of the kitchen and up the staircase. It was silent, broken by the occasional weak sniffle from Sasha. After entering my room, she sat on my bed; the depiction of a broken person. Her head was still hanging, and her shoulders were hunched over. I stood by the doorway, unmoving.

 

Words were never my forte, and I was currently at a loss. What was I supposed to say? I could almost hear the time ticking by, hear the tension thickening. ‘Sash...’

‘Don’t.’ She barked. I almost jumped in shock. Then, she looked up at me. Her fringe was slightly scuffled, falling in the way of her eyes – swollen and tear-stained – only just. Her cheeks were red, too. She seemed... empty.

 

‘What’s wrong?’ I attempted again. She took a deep breath in, and closed her eyes. ‘My parents never came home...’ She started. I stared at her, once again lacking the courage to speak. After another shaky breath, she continued, ‘I got a text from my mum. She said that dad’s in hospital. But that’s all I know. I wouldn’t be too worried, usually. She’d tell me if it was something serious. But I got lonely at home, and I should never really be left alone with my thoughts.’

 

 

I stepped over to the bed and gestured to her, showing that I didn’t know what to say. All I wanted was to calm her down, to make her feel safe. I sat on the edge of the bed, a few inches away, and put my hand beside her on the crumpled sheets. We were plunged into silence once again, with neither of us knowing what else could be said. Sasha was obviously uncomfortable sharing anymore, and no matter how much I wanted to offer words of comfort, I just couldn’t. Her hand suddenly crept over, laying her palm over the top of mine and interlacing our fingers together. My heart leapt into my throat.

 

‘I’m sorry, Connie.’ Her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

‘For what?’

‘Showing up here... like this.’

I thinned my lips, ‘Don’t be sorry for that. I’m your friend and I’m here for you.’

‘Thanks. I don’t really have many friends.’

‘What about Ymir, and Christa... And Mikasa?’

Sasha shrugged, ‘Well... Christa’s nice, but we don’t really click. Mikasa is okay, too, but she spends most of her time with that other boy. And I don’t really like Ymir.’

‘Yeah, she can be pretty hard to handle.’ I grimaced.

 

The door clicked open at that moment, and my mother came in carrying two glasses of water. She set them down beside my bed, then revealed a set of pyjamas tucked under her arm. ‘Here, Sasha, take these. You can spend the night here.’

‘No, it’s okay–’ Sasha began to protest.

My mum waved her hand, ‘No, you shouldn’t be left home alone at a time like this. You deserve some company. And I know you’ve already slept in the same room together already, anyway.’ I detected an irritated tone in my mum’s voice, but she covered it pretty well. Sasha offered a trembling smile, ‘Thanks.’

 

After that, Sasha slid away to the bathroom get changed. My hand felt cold with the absence of hers, and I was left sitting in an agitated silence. It was so frustrating, wanting to help her but lacking the power and knowledge. And for some reason, I got the feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling me. Whilst Sasha was gone, I too got changed out of my clothes, and then picked up one of the blow-up mattresses from downstairs. It inflated within a matter of minutes, just as Sasha returned. It looked like she had just about calmed down.

 

I surrendered my bed to Sasha, who gratefully took it without a word, then slid between the sheets of the air bed. The light was switched off, but the blinds were open, giving my bedroom an eerie glow from the glow of the moon. I stared at the ceiling, streaked with shadows, desperately searching for some form of verbal comfort I could offer.

 

‘Connie?’ It was Sasha who spoke first.

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you know what it’s like to be this lonely? Like me?’

I thought for a moment, ‘No. I don’t.’

‘It sucks. Most of the time I just need a hug.’

Was she hinting? I didn’t want to go over and hug her for fear of being an awkward loser, but this was also an opportunity I did not want to miss. Mustering up the courage, I stood up and stepped over to the bed, leaning over and wrapping my arms around Sasha’s shoulders. She complied.

 

Barely a moment after the hug had begun, she used all her strength to pull me onto the bed with her. I grunted in surprise, but she managed to wrestle me onto the mattress nonetheless. Laughing a little, I rolled over and laid on my back, settling down beside Sasha. She buried her head in the pillows, and for a moment I thought she was going to cry again. Her voice wobbled a little as she spoke, ‘I’m such a fucking mess.’

‘Noooo,’ I drew the word out along with my breath, gazing at her with a deep concern. ‘Sash, is there something you’re not telling me.’

‘I can’t.’ She murmured.

‘What?’ I failed to understand.

 

She blinked at me, and rolled over, showing me she didn’t want to talk anymore. ‘Goodnight.’ She breathed.

‘Night.’ I started to move back to the airbed, but she grabbed my wrist and pulled me back onto the mattress. Her eyes were big and fearful, ‘Don’t go.’

I sighed, a sigh filled with regret and concern and pure, heartbreaking emotion. ‘I won’t,’ I muttered the reply, snaking one arm behind her shoulders to support her head. She nestled into my chest and closed her eyes.

 

And just like that, cuddled into one another, we both drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep sigh* ahhh not only did this take me ages but it was also really difficult. I had to employ the help of my one and only bestie for this. Anyway, I hope it was enjoyable.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading because this is the first fanfiction I've posted.  
> It was inspired by 'Like A Drum' by Lownly (which I highly recommend), and also suggested to me by a friend who rushed me in writing this.


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